


ritual union

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Coffee, Domestic Fluff, Eating, F/M, Feels, First Kiss, First Time, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hell's Kitchen, Kissing, Male-Female Friendship, Morning After, Morning Sex, Phil's really into physical contact, Romance, Sexual Content, Vacations, brief mention of past relationships, non date dates, supportive friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 19:57:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6298099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shipscuses and domestic fluffy Skoulson sex.  Set in a vague near-future.</p>
<p>Title from the song by Little Dragon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ritual union

#

“Would you like to run a big, shady organization?”

“Am I supposed to be insulted, or flattered?”

They stop in the middle of the sidewalk and she puts her hands in her jacket pockets, sizing him up.

“Probably both, in all fairness?” he answers, apologetic.

He looks okay, all things considered.  A bit cold, with the way his nose has turned red.

After all, the world didn’t end.  She’s only been gone two weeks.

“Are you at least open to discussing it?” he goes on, squinting against the glare of the snow.

“Not here,” she replies, motioning him out of the way as a woman and her daughter attempt to pass them.

The girl turns over her shoulder for a moment, swallowed in her puffy coat, and stares back at Daisy.

It gets a smile out of her.

“Dinner?”

She crosses her arms and meets his eyes, as he bounces a little, clearly ready to get out of the cold.

“You know me. Always hungry,” she says drolly, and resumes walking.

“There’s this really great Italian place,” he goes on, following after her, his teeth chattering a bit.  “Family run since the seventies.”

“44sw,” she says.

“Yeah,” he answers, sounding a little surprised.

“I grew up here, you know.”

“I guess I did.”  He sounds a little embarrassed.  “Hey,” he says at her, tipping his chin. “Why aren’t you cold?”

“Come here,” she says, looping her arm through his, tugging him closer against her.

“Oh,” he says, surprised, the corner of his mouth pulling up a little. “Your powers?”

“It’s a little barrier, thing,” she tells him drawing a shape with her finger. “To keep out the cold.”

“That’s pretty cool.”

“You were starting to wonder if I was coming back, right?” she starts.

“You said you needed some space, but-“

“Is HYDRA restarting _again_ or is there some big-bad Inhuman you need help with?” she asks with a sigh.

She turns towards him when he doesn’t give an easy answer.

“I missed you.  That’s it.”

“Oh.”

 

 

#

“Omigod,”she says, after her second glass of wine, just now getting it. “You were hitting on me!”

She laughs out loud and covers her mouth when she sees his stunned face across the table from her.

“What are you talking about?” he asks a moment later, putting down his wine glass, but there’s the threat of a smile there.

“Would you like to run a big, shady organization?” she repeats, waiting.

“That’s kind of what we do,” he shrugs, trying to play it off.

“It’s a line,” she replies, leaning her elbows against the table. “Admit it.”

“You did tell me once I admired women who run big, shady organizations,” he smirks and then hides the rest of his face behind his wineglass as he drinks.

Admired wasn’t exactly what she meant, but he’s being cautious now.

“I was coming back.  I just needed a break.”  She pushes a piece of hair behind her ear and looks at the snowfall coming down outside the restaurant window.

This place is nice.  She never came here when she was younger, though.  Couldn’t afford it.

“You deserve one. I’m just sorry it took all of that for you to get it.”

“I don’t know that I would’ve picked this spot on my own.”  Her eyes turn upward at the walls, the art on them with generations of people, and she finds him watching her, patiently, waiting.  “Eating meatballs the size of my face was pretty spectacular.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

“What about you?” she mentions, now that he brought up the subject. “When does Phil Coulson get to take a break?”

“I don’t know,” he shakes his head. “I’m Director.”

“It turned out sending my team home was a pretty good idea,” she tells him, running her finger along the rim of her glass. “Not just strategically, but good for them.”

He hums in agreement. “Life outside of SHIELD?”

“It’s not too bad looking at it from the other side.  A nice reminder of what we’re protecting.”

The waiter comes back, politely interrupting.

“Maybe later?” she tells the waiter, when he asks about dessert. “I was enjoying the conversation.”

He walks away and their eyes meet again, but neither of them says a word.

 

#

“Do you want to come in?” she offers. 

He didn’t even mention where he’s staying or if he’s heading back to the base. “Real network programming, I haven’t had to hack a single thing.”

“That’s so tempting, hate-watching Fox News like regular people.”

She rolls her eyes at his joke and leans against the entrance.

“Totally secure, and cash only. No paper trail, no questions asked.”

“Such a good secret agent,” he teases. 

“You can warm up a little before you go,” she says, running her finger along the wood.  “Aren’t you even a little curious?”

“I think that might be the whole problem.”

“Then you should definitely, definitely, come in,” she says as she pulls him forward by the front of his jacket until their mouths meet.  His hesitation turns immediately and she finds him pressing her back against the door instead.

“I’m a lot curious,” he admits, his breath hot on her face, as she fishes the door key out of her jeans pocket, and then wraps her fingers around the back of his neck to pull him closer.

“And cold,” he winces, when her fingers make contact.

“Sorry,” she says, turning around to unlock the door quickly and shutting it again when they’re inside.

She hangs up the keys and slips off her jacket, gets out of her boots and heads up the stairs to the next floor.

He follows after her, slowly looking around at the modest furnishings. It looks clean, not very lived in, she knows.

“There’s an electric fireplace there if you want to start it,” she says, checking around in the fridge.  “Want something warm to drink?”

“Whatever you’re having,” he tosses back, figuring out the fireplace.

“I’m having ice cream,” she says, opening the freezer. “I like to eat ice cream when it’s cold.  Then snuggle under blankets?”

He chuckles at that.  “Sure.  Why not?”

She shows up with a bowl and a couple of spoons and sets them down on the coffee table, then sits on the couch and pulls a throw over her legs, rubbing her fingers together.

“Mine are still cold,” she warns him.

“Mine too.”  He takes her hands in his, sliding his fingers over hers.

“You’re going to warm them up?”

“Yes,” he says politely.

“You’re always thinking about what everyone else needs,” she tells him. “When you came here, was that for me, or for yourself?”

“A bit selfish, I think.”

“It’s okay,” she says, shifting on the couch, curling herself closer to him until her head is against his shoulder. “For us to want more.”

She’s put a lot of thought into this.  About how she could see it so clearly with him, but she couldn’t with herself.  Someone who didn’t even support her, when she thought they should have so much in common.

“I used to think this would complicate things,” he mulls, as he draws her fingers up to blow warm air over them. “I’m not so sure anymore.”

“We could find out,” she manages, as his mouth touches the tops of her knuckles, and she finds her eyelids feeling heavy.  “Together. Take things slow.”

“That sounds nice.”

 

#

So much for the slow part, she thinks with a smile, stretching as the sunlight invades the bedroom.

She likes the light in this place.  That’s why she chose it.

Even if the windows make her feel a little exposed.  It’s the sort of thing people with normal lives don’t worry about.

She turns over and notices the indention where Phil is supposed to be and frowns a little, until he shows up in the doorway with a couple of cups of coffee.

Sitting up she draws the sheet around her as he hands her a cup and takes the paper out from under his arm and tosses it down on the bed.

“Couldn’t resist,” he says, bending to kiss her bare shoulder as she watches him slip the robe off and then fluff the pillows and crawl back into bed to sit up against the headboard, opening the paper.

“How long have you been up?”

“An hour, I guess?”

“We didn’t take things very slowly,” she says, testing, sipping her coffee.

“No,” he replies casually. “Did we really want to, though?” he asks with a smirk, looking back at her.

“No,” she grins, pressing her foot against his bare leg, sliding it along his calf feeling the hair tickle her toes.

“You look especially beautiful this morning,” he says, putting the paper to the side on the bed.  “Why do you think that is?”

“You’re giving yourself a lot of credit,” she laughs, as he takes her coffee cup from her and sets it down on the nightstand beside her.

“It’s the light,” he teases, sliding his hand underneath the sheets, as she feels his hand caress her stomach and the worries she was holding onto slip away as he gives her a coffee-rich kiss and his fingers squeeze her hip.

She pushes the sheet away and presses the heel of her hand pushing against his shoulder and moves over him, sitting across his lap.

He gasps, like she’s too much for him to take in at once, and she’s very sure she could get used to the look his face is wearing. Discovering new ways of seeing him.

And maybe she suspected it all along, that Phil likes touch.  The way he would always react when she touched him.

It makes the loss of his hand all the more sharp, but it’s a part of him now, and she laces the fingers of her left in his, and starts to move her hips over him.

He arches up to drag his lips along her collarbone then along her neck, tugging her back down against him until their chests are touching, his scar against her and the intimacy of that.

She can feel him starting to move under her, getting lost in the frisson between them and his growing arousal underneath her.

Her hair falls in her face and his fingers push it away, tucking it back behind an ear as his eyes meet hers and then their mouths again. He’s so warm and hungry, and she feels something blossom in her chest as he lines their bodies together and lets her have control.

Until she gives it back to him, and they come together, the colder air creeping in again against the damp skin of their bodies as they try to slow down and catch their breath.

“Yes,” she tells him, laying on her back next to him. “I’ll run a big, shady organization. With you.”

“Deal,” he says, raising his hand between them.

She lifts hers and twists a pinkie around his. “Deal. Now.  What are we having for breakfast?”

“I should’ve known,” he says in mock-exasperation. “Does that always happen when you mhmmh?”

He’s thinking about getting up at midnight to make her a snack, but the offer was so endearing, she couldn’t say no.

“Yes,” she grins, flexing her toes. “Mhmmh works a little like my powers.”

“Good to know.  Can I finish my coffee?”

“Yes.”

She picks up her own cup and leans against his shoulder to read along.


End file.
